Reflections of the Past
by Firestorm
Summary: Seiji had never understood why he had always been punished so harshly when he was a child. Today he is about to find out. YST. One shot.


**Reflections of the Past**

**One shot**

An old man sat at his desk as he took a feather quill and dipped it into a jar of India ink. Bringing it to the parchment he began to write in neat strokes. The noise outside of his study did not bother him. Yayoi was arguing with Seiji, her voice mostly filling the living room. Seiji said something back, leaving someone to slam a door shut. It must have been Yayoi, because Satsuki was asking Seiji if he was all right.

The old man continued to write as if the situation outside the door had never happened. His daughter, the mother of the three children was working at the hospital, and his son in law was on duty at the police station. Neither would be back until the end of the day. The old man could only hope none of his grandchildren would be depressed or angry by that time. He fretted particularly over Seiji.

Seiji, the last male in the Date family to carry on the family name. As a young boy, Seiji had been sick quite often. He had been prone to colds and pneumonia, and often fainted during gym class. Several times had he landed himself in the hospital where tests were run to determine the cause.

His mother had tried to dress him in female clothing, hoping it would cure him. But it did not. Seiji had remained sick. A Shinto priest was even brought in to say a prayer for his healing. That did not work either. It was then the old man had taken matters into his own hands.

At first, young Seiji hadn't liked the old man's ideas to make him better. To show his displeasure he had often jumped up and down, screaming at the top of his lungs, grabbing things and hurtling them at walls or windows resulting in broken items. But the old man had not been deterred. Often for punishment, he sent Seiji downstairs to the basement where the young boy had to sit on a crate and think about what he had done. Only when he had calmed himself was he allowed to return to upstairs. To aid him even further, the old man had given him a musical instrument known as the bamboo flute. Seiji had asked him what good it is was if he didn't know how to play it. The only answer he received was: "Learn."

For weeks Seiji had struggled with the bamboo flute. Often his sisters would cringe in horror whenever he played, and his mother had actually begged him to go outside with it. The young boy had been hurt and had come quite close to throwing away the instrument. His father, on the other hand, had compassion for him. Mr. Date had decided to sign his son up for music lessons and often drove Seiji to his classes three times a week.

In time, Seiji had learned to play the bamboo flute in a beautiful way. Whenever he played outside, pedestrians would stop to listen and applaud him when he finished.

But the old man had discovered this wasn't enough to help Seiji. True, the young boy had calmed down considerably, he was still often ill. His parents had changed his diet, hoping that would help whereas everything else had failed before. But that, too, failed. Finally, the old man had decided to make his grandson practice Kendo.

Seiji had had a difficult time with it. Often, he would cry in anguish and insist he was no good, that he would be better off dead. That outburst had earned him a quick slap to the head and a strong reprimanding.

It had taken several months before the young boy began to get the hang of it. But the Dates had noticed a major improvement. The exercises the old man had made Seiji do had caused him to be less and less ill.

At a certain period when Seiji had done remarkably well, the old man had enlisted him into the Tournament where Seiji had made new friends and had won many of the tournaments. There was only one tournament where Seiji had gotten out of control; the tournament where he had lost his temper when his opponent threw sand in his eyes.

Seiji's eyes. They were different than most eyes. Designed with a piercing gaze, when he looked at someone he frightened them. He, at one time, attempted suicide because people had backed away from him, claiming his eyes were too sharp.

Yayoi had caught him and after a long talk about why he had attempted it, told Seiji it didn't matter what anyone thought of him, but what counted was what he thought of himself. To help him even further, she had suggested he cover one eye with his bangs, and had helped him to do so.

At first Seiji had trouble with this new look. Sometimes, he had been seen brushing his bangs away from his eyes, only to receive a warning look from his elder sister. Other times when he left the bangs alone, he was seen banging into counters and into doorways. It took many weeks for Seiji to become one with his new look.

The old man paused in his writing to sip tea from his cup. He listened to the sounds of the house. The sound of a basketball bouncing off the courtyard echoed outside. Yayoi was out there, perhaps working off her anger. From the living room, gentle music wafted through the house. Seiji was playing his bamboo flute. Peace seemed to have settled in the house, making the old man smile. He picked up his quill, dipped it into the ink jar, returned to his writing, and wrote several more sentences. When he finished, he set his quill down and overlooked his work. Feeling satisfied, he picked up his cup of tea and drank from it as he waited for the parchment to dry.

Seiji laid his bamboo flute down on the small table next to the couch. He sighed deeply. Yayoi never understood him. Why did it bother her so much if he did not want to ask her friend's younger cousin to the prom? She should have realized it was difficult for him to talk to girls. Besides, he wasn't sure if he even wanted to go to the prom. Every girl would be asking him to dance, making him feel completely bashful. No, he did not want to go. He would rather race, and even that was impossible as his father had taken away the keys a week ago due to breaking the age requirement law. Seiji was only seventeen, and would not turn eighteen until next year on June 9th. He hoped his father would allow him to study to earn his learner's permit and eventually his license.

He glanced over at his younger sister. She was drawing something in her art pad. Seiji smiled. Satsuki was a talented artist, but still needed some improvement. He often bought her magazines with people in them to aid her skills. He had a soft spot for her in his heart. In truth, she was his favorite sister. She had often listened to his complaints without interrupting and gave him the correct words that somehow always made him feel better. If only Yayoi was the same way.

It wasn't that he did not love his older sister. He did. In fact, he was grateful she had saved his life and helped him with the difficulties of his eyes. She was just too demanding, and often teased Seiji so much that he literally got sick of it. Once she had threatened to post photos of him dressed in girl's clothing on the internet. He still remembered his scream to this day, and if not for their mother, he was quite sure Yayoi would make good on her promise. Oh, yes, having a family with siblings was definitely interesting.

The door to the study suddenly opened and an old man stepped out into the living room. "Seiji-kun!" he called.

Seiji immediately looked up and bowed in respect . "Hello, Grandfather," he replied in respect.

"I have something for you," Grandfather Date told him as he beckoned him over. "Come."

"Yes, Grandfather." Seiji stood up and walked to his grandfather who handed him the letter. Without a single word, the old man turned and left him alone.

Seiji watched him go and then turned to the letter. He unfolded it and began to read.

_Dearest Grandson,_

_As I write this letter to you, I reflect on memories from the past. You had often wondered why I was so hard on you. I have come to realize as you are close to becoming a man, you now have a right to know. I was strict with you because I loved you. You were so full of anger, even the Tengu did not wish to be near you. You had difficulty controlling your animosity and I became quite concerned for your welfare. When you were in the hospital, it was I who fretted the most. It was I who spent countless hours thinking on how to help you. Your parents had tried everything to help you become well and none of ideas worked. I had decided to take matters into my own hands because I feared loosing you. _

_The punishments I had given to you were not without merit. It was during one of the punishments that you had found your armor ball for the Korin and had developed your attribute, courtesy. _

_I had wanted to ease your suffering, Seiji-kun. I had wanted to make you a better person, not only to your family and to society, but also to yourself. As the years have passed us, I now see my work is nearly complete. I say nearly complete because I know you still harbor hostility. Be careful, my grandson, and don't let the darkness of anger consume you. I hope one day you will come to understand fully what I am saying here. As I write this letter, I think about the difficult child you once were in the past, and the young man I now see. You have grown in spirit, Seiji-kun. I am proud of you for remaining strong throughout all these years. I love you, my grandson. _

_Grandfather Date_

Seiji blinked as tears filled his eyes. Never before had his grandfather expressed his love; not in words at least. And now he knew. His grandfather had not punished him because he loathed him. His punishments had proven his love for him, because they had indeed helped him to become a better person. And his grandfather was right. He still held some anger within him. Anger that he needed to let go before it swallowed him whole.

Folding the letter carefully, Seiji took a deep breath and decided to go outside to the backyard where he could practice his Kendo. As he walked past his younger sister who was still drawing, he began to reflect on his grandfather. The Trooper of Korin now had a greater respect for his grandfather than he ever had before. It was a respect he would never lose.

A/N: This is my very first YST fanfic. I am hoping I kept the characters mostly canon, although I am not quite sure of Yayoi plays basketball, nor am I sure if Satsuki draws. The Tengu, are mountain demons which are said to come down and play tricks on humans for a bit of information.


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